Not Okay, Not Yet
by Artemius
Summary: Molly Weasley worries about the Golden Trio in the wake of the war.


Molly Weasley is worried about her children. They have been through so much. Day by day, little by little, she watches them heal. She knows what they are feeling. She too, has lost a brother. She now also knows how it feels to lose a son. And though the war is over, she is terrified that she will lose another child.

Not Bill, who has Fleur to look after him now. Not Charlie, who has always been at his best when left alone with his dragons. Not Percy, who has been trying so hard to make up for his past mistakes. Not even George, who throws himself into running the joke shop that he now owns alone. And it's not Ginny who worries her, her strong daughter who sometimes feels like the glue that holds them all together.

It is Ron she fears for. Ron, and Harry and Hermione, who are just as much her children as any of the ones she birthed. She fears for them because they have been through so much more than the others. And she worries, because she does not know how they are feeling. They are distant and quiet, seemingly content only in each other's company. She does not know if she should push them to talk or leave them be. All she knows is that they are not okay.

She hears bits and pieces of the story from other sources. Bathilda Bagshot's death is discovered and investigated. In a quiet monotone, Harry relates what happened in Godric's Hollow. Everyone talks about the dragon laying waste to Gringott's. Xenophilius Lovegood comes one day to offer his apologies. Hermione stays near the doorway and watches him with distrustful eyes.

As the weather warms, Hermione refuses to wear short sleeves. Sweat glistens on her forehead, but she silently endures the discomfort. Harry and Ron flank her protectively anytime someone comments on it. Then one day, as Hermione washes up for dinner, Molly sees the scar on her arm. She finally hears the story of Malfoy Manor. She wishes she could kill Bellatrix Lestrange again.

That night she weeps and rages as Arthur tries to calm her down. They are strong, he assures her. They will be fine. It only makes her weep and rage more. Does no one else see how they are suffering? Of age or not, they are still are her children. And they are not okay.

Molly gives them their distance and tries to be patient. She bites her tongue when Hermione sneaks up to the top room at night. She knows that none of them will get any sleep if they're separated. They seem happiest when left alone, the three of them sitting in silence together.

Molly longs for a reason to scold them. They are too quiet, too biddable, too passive. They do as they are told without comment or complaint. Molly thinks of feet thundering up and down stairs and explosions sounding through the house and children fighting. Who ever thought she would miss those days? She has lost one of her pranksters, now she fears that all joy has fled her house.

Ginny fights, as she always has. She has stood up to her big brothers and to Dolores Umbridge and even to Lord Voldemort himself. Victory has been declared, but she knows the war is not over. Her weapons now are inappropriate comments, scathing commentaries and well-placed Dungbombs. Molly scolds her, even while she cheers her on.

The trio allow Ginny to sit with them. They talk with her and even let her coax them out into the world now and then. But her biggest reward for her efforts is only ever a weak smile. "Keep trying, dear," Molly encourages her. "It's better than the rest of us have done."

Again, Arthur tries to comfort her. "They've seen a lot, Molly. It's going to take them time to recover. But they made it through. They're okay."

Molly sighs and forces herself not to fight with him. Why can no one else see it? They are not okay.

And then, one day, it happens. A tawny owl delivers an official letter. "Oi, what have you got a Hogwarts letter for?" Ron demands as Hermione tears it open."

"For school, of course." She looks up, suddenly realizing she is the only one with a letter. "Where are yours and Harry's?"

"We're done with school." Ron looks at Harry. "Right?"

Harry shrugs. "I reckon our seventh year was about as instructive as anything Hogwarts could come up with."

Hermione looks aghast. "But you never finished! You have to go back. You have to take your NEWTS!"

Now Ron looks horrified. "Sit through exams? They can't make us do that! The Ministry said we didn't have to."

"The Ministry will say anything to make themselves look better right now," she says scathingly. She turns to Harry. "What about you?"

Harry quails under Hermione's stare. "I just think...Hogwarts is great. But it's time to move on."

Hermione sighs and shakes her head. "You're really not going back?"

"George needs help running the shop," Ron told her. "Dropping out of school is sort of a requirement to work there."

"What happened to being an Auror?" she asks him.

He shrugs. "I haven't given it up. It's just, right now, George needs me. And I think I need him too."

Hermione takes his hand, but cocks her head at Harry.

"The Auror's office has already make me an offer," he says.

"'Course they have," Ron announces. "Not going to turn down the Chosen One, are they?"

"But you're not the Chosen One anymore, Harry," Hermione tells him. "You don't have to keep fighting."

"I know, but…" Harry struggles to voice what he's feeling. "There are all kinds of evil. The world isn't divided into good people and Death Eaters. Just because Voldemort's gone doesn't mean there isn't still work to be done."

"What about you?" Ron asks Hermione. "You want to work in the Ministry, right? It's not like they're going to make you do more school if you want in."

"Of course they wouldn't, but I don't want special consideration because they think I'm some kind of war hero." She cuts herself off as her face flushes scarlet. "I don't mean that you two...that is you're not-"

"I bloody well am," Ron interrupts. "It's about time risking our lives gets us something besides detention."

"Ronald," Hermione scolds. She turns to Harry with a disapproving look.

He just grins at her. "Come off it, Hermione. I mean, we _are_ war heroes."

She tries to look stern for a few more moments, but then a snort breaks free. Suddenly all three of them are roaring with laughter.

Out in the hallway, Molly leans on the wall and heaves a sigh of relief.

They're not okay, not yet.

But they will be.


End file.
